From an embankment overlooking Gaza City, there’s no hiding what this war has done.

The Gaza of maps and memories is gone, replaced by a monochrome landscape of rubble stretching flat and still for 180 degrees, from Beit Hanoun on one side to Gaza City on the other.

Beyond the distant shapes of buildings still standing inside Gaza City, there’s almost nothing left to orient you here, or identify the neighbourhoods that once held tens of thousands of people.

This was one of the first areas Israeli ground troops entered in the early weeks of the war. Since then they have been back multiple times, as Hamas regrouped around its strongholds in the area.

Asked about the level of destruction in the area we visited, Israeli military spokesman Nadav Shoshani said it was “not a goal”.

“The goal is to combat terrorists. Almost every house had a tunnel shaft or was booby-trapped or had an RPG [rocket-propelled grenade] or sniper station,” he said.

“If you’re driving fast, within a minute you can be inside of a living room of an Israeli grandmother or child. That’s what happened on October 7.”

More than 1,100 people were killed in the Hamas attacks on Israel on 7 October 2023, and 251 others taken hostage.

Since then, more than 68,000 Gazans have been killed, according to the Hamas-run Health Ministry there.

The bodies of several hostages had been found in this area, Lt Col Shoshani said, including that of Itay Chen, returned to Israel by Hamas this week. Searches are continuing for the missing bodies of another seven hostages.

The Israeli military base we travelled to is a few hundred metres from the yellow line – the temporary boundary set out in US President Donald Trump’s peace plan, which divides the areas of Gaza still controlled by Israeli forces from the areas controlled by Hamas.

Israel’s army has been gradually marking out the yellow line with blocks on the ground, as a warning to both Hamas fighters and civilians.

There are no demarcations along this part of the line yet – a soldier points it out to me, taking bearings from a small patch of sand between the grey crumbs of demolished buildings.

The ceasefire is almost a month old, but Israeli forces say they are still fighting Hamas gunmen along the yellow line “almost every day”. The piles of bronze-coloured bullet casings mark the firing points on the embankments facing Gaza City.

Hamas has accused Israel of violating the ceasefire “hundreds of times”, and Gaza’s Hamas-run Health Ministry says more than 240 people have been killed as a result.

Col Shoshani said that Israeli forces were committed to the US-led peace plan, but that they would also make sure that Hamas no longer posed a threat to Israeli civilians, and would stay as long as necessary.

“It’s very clear to everyone that Hamas is armed and trying to control Gaza,” he said. “This is something that will be worked out, but we’re far from that.”

The next stage of the US-led plan requires Hamas to disarm and hand over power to a Palestinian committee overseen by international figures including President Trump.

But rather than give up its power and weapons, Col Shoshani said, Hamas was doing the opposite.

“Hamas is trying to arm itself, trying to assert dominance, assert control over Gaza,” he told me. “It’s killing people in broad daylight, to terrorise civilians and make sure they understand who is boss in Gaza. We hope this agreement is enough pressure to make sure Hamas disarms.”

Israeli forces showed us a map of the tunnels they said that soldiers had found beneath the rubble we saw – “a vast network of tunnels, almost like spider’s web” they said – some already destroyed, some still intact, and some they were still searching for.

What happens in the next stage of this peace deal is unclear.

The agreement has left Gaza in a tense limbo. Washington knows how fragile the situation is – the ceasefire has faltered twice already.

The US is pushing hard to move on from this volatile stand-off to a more durable peace. It has sent a draft resolution to UN Security Council members, seen by the BBC, which outlines a two-year mandate for an international stabilisation force to take over Gaza’s security and disarm Hamas.

But details of this next stage of the deal are thin: it’s not clear which countries would send troops to secure Gaza ahead of Hamas disarmament, when Israel’s troops will withdraw, or how the members of Gaza’s new technocratic administration will be appointed.

President Trump has outlined his vision of Gaza as a futuristic Middle Eastern hub, built with foreign investment. It’s a far cry from where Gaza is today.

Largely destroyed by Israel, and seen as an investment by Trump, the question is not just who can stop the fighting, but how much say Gazans will have in the future of their communities and lands.

Paris (Imran Y. CHOUDHRY) :- Former Press Secretary to the President, Former Press Minister to the Embassy of Pakistan to France, Former MD, SRBC Mr. Qamar Bashir analysis : In a stunning act of political defiance, Israel’s hard-line cabinet effectively nullified Trump’s Gaza Peace Plan by passing a resolution that authorized the expansion of settlements into the West Bank and renewed military operations even as the peace framework was being finalized. The move blindsided Washington’s diplomatic team, particularly Vice President J. D. Vance, who was in Tel Aviv precisely to secure Israel’s commitment to compliance. According to U.S. officials cited by Reuters and Haaretz, the vice president regarded the Israeli resolution as a deliberate breach of trust and a personal affront, describing it privately as an insult delivered “at the highest level.”
Initially, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government appeared cautiously supportive. Yet within weeks, domestic political pressures and far-right factions within his coalition began to dismantle that fragile understanding.
For regional observers, the timing was no accident. Analysts from Al Jazeera and Le Monde noted that Netanyahu’s right-wing bloc viewed the Gaza Peace Plan as a strategic threat — a framework that could limit Israel’s military freedom and restore international legitimacy to the idea of Palestinian statehood. By reigniting combat operations and approving annexation in the West Bank, Israel’s leadership seemed intent on pre-empting any diplomatic arrangement that might constrain its territorial ambitions.
Trump’s administration had offered Israel extensive security guarantees, economic incentives, and enhanced defense cooperation in exchange for compliance. The vice president’s visit was meant to formalize these commitments. Instead, it concluded in frustration, leaving Washington’s credibility as an honest peace broker hanging in the balance. The rupture was more than symbolic; it revealed the widening gap between an American administration seeking stability and an Israeli government increasingly driven by nationalist ideology.
This humanitarian devastation is not an unintended consequence but a calculated strategy. Israeli hardliners argue that prolonged economic collapse will weaken militant networks and deter future uprisings. History, however, teaches the opposite: despair breeds resistance. A society stripped of dignity and survival cannot be pacified through starvation. No peace plan can take root amid hunger, displacement, and grief.
For the United States, this crisis poses an excruciating dilemma. For decades, the U.S.–Israel partnership has rested on three pillars — security cooperation, political alignment, and shared democratic ideals. But when an ally openly defies a sitting American vice president and undermines a peace framework painstakingly negotiated by Washington, those foundations begin to crumble. According to Defense News, the United States currently provides Israel with roughly $3.8 billion in annual military aid, most of it unconditional. That policy is now facing bipartisan scrutiny in Congress. Several senators have proposed conditioning aid on measurable improvements in civilian protection, echoing growing public sentiment that America must not bankroll violations of humanitarian law. A Pew Research poll conducted in September 2025 found that sixty-one percent of Americans favor temporarily suspending arms transfers to compel a cease-fire.
Across the Middle East, the shockwaves have been immediate. Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Egypt — all early supporters of Trump’s peace initiative — condemned Israel’s annexation vote as an act of deliberate sabotage. Turkey and Iran warned that continued aggression could trigger regional retaliation, language that has raised fears of a broader conflagration. Analysts point out that these countries, along with Pakistan, now possess credible deterrent and precision-strike capabilities that could drastically alter Israel’s strategic calculus if the United States withdraws its protective shield.
Even without direct confrontation, the diplomatic cost for Israel is mounting. The European Union has suspended preferential trade talks, and the U.N. General Assembly has called an emergency session to debate sanctions related to settlement expansion. For the first time in decades, Israel finds itself not only at odds with its adversaries but estranged from its oldest allies.
The tragedy is that Israel’s current trajectory mirrors the mistakes of history. Nations that have endured persecution and suffering should understand, more than any others, the moral necessity of restraint. Post-war Germany and Japan, once militaristic powers, rebuilt themselves into peaceful, prosperous democracies by renouncing aggression and embracing accountability. Their transformation stands as proof that security arises not from domination but from legitimacy and trust. Israel, endowed with immense scientific talent, economic vitality, and a globally connected diaspora, could follow a similar path — if its leadership chose coexistence over conquest.
Instead, its current defiance threatens to turn strength into isolation. The illusion of invincibility can blind a nation to its own vulnerabilities. True power lies not in the ability to destroy but in the capacity to reconcile. A country surrounded by hostility cannot ensure its safety through endless wars; it must seek durable peace through justice and empathy.
The immediate task now is to restore U.S.–Israeli trust and revive the 21-point peace roadmap before the window for diplomacy closes completely. That will require a verifiable halt to annexation, unrestricted humanitarian access to Gaza, a phased prisoner exchange, and credible international guarantees for demilitarization and reconstruction. Regional powers such as Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Egypt, and Turkey must act as guarantors, while the United States and European Union provide financial and institutional support for rebuilding. Without such coordinated engagement, the Middle East risks descending into yet another prolonged and destabilizing conflict.
Israel’s defiance may appear, to some, as a show of resolve. In truth, it reveals fragility — a dependence on foreign backing, on perpetual mobilization, and on the dangerous illusion that peace can be achieved through dominance. If Washington rediscovers its moral compass and conditions its support on accountability and restraint, it can still salvage both its peace plan and its reputation as a global arbiter of justice. But if this spiral continues, the United States may one day realize that by shielding an ally from responsibility, it has imperiled not only Israel’s survival but also America’s credibility as the world’s champion of peace.

Paris (Imran Y. CHOUDHRY) :- Former Press Secretary to the President, Former Press Minister to the Embassy of Pakistan to France, Former MD, SRBC Mr. Qamar Bashir analysis : The world has finally witnessed an extraordinary development: the guns in Gaza have fallen silent. After months of relentless bombing, destruction, and the slow suffocation of a besieged population, Donald Trump’s unprecedented peace plan has brought at least a temporary halt to the horror. Aid is now trickling into Gaza, families that had endured starvation are receiving a semblance of relief, and the hope of survival, however fragile, is returning to a battered land. Yet the relief is tempered by the rhetoric of Benjamin Netanyahu, who insists that Israel’s objectives remain unchanged. His refusal to admit defeat conceals an anger at failing to persuade Trump to bless a complete annihilation of Gaza and its annexation into Israel’s expanding dream of territorial conquest.
This war, conceived by Israel and prosecuted with staggering ferocity, has ended in exhaustion rather than triumph. For the people of Gaza and the West Bank, the devastation is almost indescribable. United Nations and World Bank assessments estimate that Gaza alone faces over fifty billion dollars in reconstruction needs, with nearly seventy billion required to restore what has been lost. More than fifty-five million tons of rubble bury homes, schools, and hospitals, enough to fill thirteen pyramids of Giza. Electricity grids, water systems, hospitals, and telecommunications have been flattened. The human cost is greater still: tens of thousands dead, many more maimed, families erased, and an entire generation displaced.
Yet despite these horrors, the end of open conflict has already produced ripples felt far beyond the Levant. Perhaps the most immediate effect has been on global energy markets. During the war, the mere fear of disruption in Middle Eastern supply lines, particularly around the Strait of Hormuz and Red Sea trade routes, added a risk premium to oil. Brent crude had soared above eighty dollars a barrel, driving fuel and shipping costs higher across the globe. With hostilities ending, oil prices have tumbled to around sixty-one dollars a barrel, their lowest in five months. In the United States, gasoline prices that averaged four dollars a gallon only weeks ago are now edging closer to two dollars in some states, a correction that promises relief not only at the pump but across every layer of the economy.
Energy is the bloodstream of modern commerce. When oil and gas prices fall, every input cost—from transport to manufacturing to food distribution—drops in tandem. Lower energy costs ease inflationary pressure, reduce the consumer price index, and expand household purchasing power. For American families struggling with high costs of living, this decline may prove transformative. The dividend will be shared across the industrialized world, lowering inflation in Europe and Asia, reducing transport costs for global trade, and calming volatile markets that had priced in the risk of an expanded Middle Eastern war.
The greatest beneficiaries, however, may be in the developing world. Countries like Pakistan, Egypt, and those across Sub-Saharan Africa, which import most of their energy needs, have been spending much of their export earnings and foreign reserves on oil bills. High prices pushed them toward debt crises, leaving little for infrastructure or social spending. Now, with energy costs receding, these economies will regain some fiscal breathing space. Foreign exchange reserves will stabilize, debt servicing will become less crushing, and scarce resources can be redirected to development and poverty alleviation. For Pakistan, Afghanistan, and India—together home to over two billion people—the respite in energy costs is no less than a lifeline. Add China, the world’s largest energy importer, and the region accounts for nearly four billion people now benefiting directly from the dividends of this peace.
Equally important is the impact on trade. During the war, insurance premiums for ships passing through Middle Eastern waters soared, freight costs climbed, and global supply chains faced unpredictable delays. The ceasefire reduces these risks almost overnight. Cheaper shipping and lower risk premiums will improve the competitiveness of exporters, stabilize imports of food and essential goods, and ultimately lower costs for consumers worldwide. The IMF has already noted that a durable peace in Gaza could improve regional growth prospects by as much as one percentage point, a significant gain for struggling economies.
Peace also reshapes politics. Governments that were facing unrest from rising food and fuel prices suddenly have a cushion. Political leaders in fragile states can buy time, enact reforms, or at least ease the burden on citizens. This in turn creates a measure of stability, the very foundation of legitimacy and governance. The dividends of peace, therefore, are not only economic but also political, strengthening societies at their weakest points.
Still, there remains the urgent question of responsibility. Who will pay for Gaza’s reconstruction? It is not enough for wealthy states to open their treasuries out of charity while those who unleashed destruction escape unscathed. International law and morality demand that blame be apportioned. Israel, Hamas, regional actors, and global powers that contributed to the devastation should be compelled to shoulder the costs. Without such accountability, the precedent would be disastrous: that any powerful nation may devastate its weaker neighbor and walk away without consequence. Gaza must not become a template for impunity. Compensation must also reach families of innocent victims—children, women, doctors, and journalists—whose lives were shattered.
The road ahead is perilous. The peace is fragile and could collapse under renewed aggression. Donor pledges may falter, leaving reconstruction incomplete. Funds may be captured by elites or foreign contractors, breeding resentment rather than renewal. Regional tensions—whether in Lebanon, Syria, or Iran—could reignite conflict and restore the risk premium to oil markets. The dividends of peace are real but remain precariously balanced on the commitments of guarantors like the United States, which must enforce its plan with vigilance.
For Donald Trump, the Gaza ceasefire is not only a diplomatic achievement but also a political claim. He has boasted of stopping eight wars and now turns his gaze toward Russia and Ukraine, pledging to end that grinding conflict as well. Should he succeed, he would enter history as the president who halted nine wars in a single year of office. Whether this is bravado or foresight remains to be seen, but the Gaza experience proves that even entrenched conflicts can yield when backed by resolve and pressure from the most powerful office on earth.
In the final analysis, the dividends of Gaza–Israel peace are vast. Lower energy costs, subdued inflation, revitalized trade, fiscal space for fragile economies, and a political reprieve for leaders facing unrest all stem from this fragile truce. But the greatest dividend may be moral: the reminder that peace, even imperfect, enriches humanity far more than war, which impoverishes all. If the world seizes this moment to rebuild Gaza with justice, fairness, and accountability, it may set a precedent that aggression must pay and that peace, not conquest, yields the truest victory.